Timmy Turner's Suicide revisited
by Ms. 1313
Summary: These are the personal thoughts of Timmy Turner, on the 5th Anniversary of losing his GodParents. AU. Alludes to plot from another FanFiction.


_"Our life can change, alter, in a short matter of moments. A single horrible action could cause a terrifying reaction, sending someone's own personal world into an undetermined spiral of chaos. The results, a world salted with a drab bleakness and peppered with shadowy torment. If that is result, than what could await those who commit such heinous acts? How much worse could it be than a life of pain and torment?"_

Time had moved ever slowly, and it had has been a very agonizing 5 years since I last laid my eyes on them. The curl of her pink hair, and the yellow t-shirt in which I had wept into for the last time. The mess of his green hair, and the black thin tie he had used to wipe away my tears. They had known this day would come, and had steeled themselves, though it seemed their resolve would break. POOF! I felt conflicting emotions, as before me stood the largest Fairy GodParent I had ever met, Jorgen Von Strangle.

No matter how much I pleaded, or threw myself at his mercy, Da Rules were ultimately clear. I had grown to old for my Fairy OddParents. I had humiliated myself, crawled on my hands and knees, prostrating myself in front of him, begging for just one more day. He had looked down at me with a disapproving look in his eyes, lifted my by the back of my shirt and gave me an intimidating glare, forcing me to stop the dry sobs. I had no more tears left in me to cry and was no hiccuping.

Jorgen Von Strangle stood before me in his iconic military uniform. He had always reminded me of that famous 80's actor from the movies, Arnnie Shwartshwenhiemmer. A mighty laugh shook the very house as he gripped the shaft of his massive magic wand and lifted it easily above his head. Droping me to the wooden floor of my bedroom, he pointed the topmost point of the magic star affixed to his wand and spoke clearly.

"Timmy Turner, on this day, you are marked to be to old for Fairy GodParents. For the years in which you have loved your Fairy GodParents, I grant your memories. You may look back on them as fond memories, and know the time you have spent together to be one of happiness!"

With a swipe of his wand, Jorgen Von Strangle, Cosmo, Wanda and baby Poof, were gone. I sobbed, I had begged for them to come back to me, for this to be some prank for my birthday.

Here I sit, today marking the 5th anniversary since they left me all alone. Music is playing through the laptop on top of my desk, Breaking Benjamin. The same song has been repeating for hours, while I stare at the cover of an old Crimson Chin comic. It was the last gift I ever received from them, and in all of this time, I had not once opened it. I had stopped reading Crimson Chin, although I still bought each new edition.

On the small table in the corner of my room sits the Fishbowl, the water untouched, aged five years but still kept clean by what little magic has been left. In it sits the small cardboard castle, nothing more than decoration. I have thought of just tossing it out several times these last few months, but every time I get close to dumping out the water, I just keep it clutched to my chest and stare into the water for hours.

Vicky is still around. She is in her twenties and attending the local community college. I see her from time to time, working at a fastfood burger joint, flipping burgers and dunking fries into the hot oil. Every time I see her, I am reminded of the night when I was only 10 years old, and my Fairy OddParents had taken a surprise trip. She still has a small scar from when I bit her on the arm. I have heard her tell people the same origin story when asked about it, the burner of a stove. We both know the truth though.

The song has come to an end and begins to play again. I can hear the opening notes on the guitar. I've grown so tired of listening to same song, but have no energy to change it to anything else. I can feel my fingers beginning to become numb along with my toes, and it is almost calming. With a small chuckle, I listen to the sound of my voice. It makes me think of my childhood, how much it has changed since I was that buck-tooth kid in the pink hat. It makes me think of Trixie Tang, and the one night we shared after a talent show in the 9th grade. She loved the way I had sounded, but I had realized that I did not love her.

The clock on my laptop reads a couple minutes pass Six o'clock in the evening. I have begun to lose feeling in my legs and arms, and I can feel it working it's way to my chest ever so slowly. Leaning against the screen of my laptop sits a white envelope, scribbled with only one word on the face. Inside, sits a letter and my last apologies.

Looking up at my bedroom ceiling, I cannot help but smile. I feel calmer than I have in a long time as my chest grows numb and I struggle to breath in. I will finally be free.

These words were found scribbled in a letter, found leaning against the laptop in front of Timmy Turner, as he stared at the ceiling with a smile. The letter was dated for March 21st.

 _"Our life can change, alter, in a short matter of moments. A single horrible action could cause a terrifying reaction, sending someone's own personal world into an undetermined spiral of chaos. The results, a world salted with a drab bleakness and peppered with shadowy torment. If that is result, than what could await those who commit such heinous acts? How much worse could it be than a life of pain and torment?"_

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A/N: This has been a revision of another Fanfiction I had posted in '09. I felt it needed to be revised and slightly updated. This Fanfiction also alludes towards another Fanfiction that was posted on this website at the time of the first publishing, detailing the molestation of Timmy Turner at the hands of his babysitter, Vicky. I do not know if that Fanfiction is still available to be read though. Please read/review and let me know your thoughts. I hope to get back into publishing other Fanfictions.


End file.
